


my hands and heart were tied

by hesperides



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 10:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4622121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesperides/pseuds/hesperides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His head is swimming a little less than it was, but that underlying urge is still there, prickling hot under his skin, making his hands twitch restlessly, wanting to reach out and--</p>
            </blockquote>





	my hands and heart were tied

**Author's Note:**

> it's sex pollen fic what do you want from me!!! can be seen as a continuation of that other fic i wrote. dedicated to the five other people in the fandom who ship this you know who you are. smooches to my wives who checked my terrible spelling

His hatred of field work doesn't need to be backed up every time he goes out. And it's always for some Strain they can't identify, with powers they can't easily handle, so there's _no choice_ but to call him in while he's in the middle of filing an eight part, long overdue revenue and spending report.

For once, though, he isn't focused on how pissed off he is.

He isn't focused on anything, really, except how badly he wants his damn coat off.

Everything else is kind of a blur. A Strain with plant related powers, giant poisonous flowers. _Supposedly_ poisonous, except when he and another member of the special forces unit (it had to be the guy he was in an open-secret office relationship with, of course it did) got hit with it, they weren't showing any negative reactions at all.

Anything someone would relate to a normal poisonous cloud, anyway. Once everything was said and done they were still dumped in the detox van and left to wait it out while the lieutenant was on the phone with every toxicologist in the city.

Fushimi lasts a good three minutes of staring crankily at the wall. He's upset because he got called out here in what should've been a routine bag and tag, but not that upset. There's no reason he should be feeling as warm as he is right now, the usually frigid special forces van seeming almost stifling. In his full uniform it's nearly unbearable, but he's stubbornly refrained for a reason he can't quite identify. His thoughts kind of race by when he tries to focus on identifying if he's running a fever or not, if he actually has been poisoned and the symptoms are only starting now.

When he reaches to tug at the collar of his shirt, still feeling too warm despite it already being against-regulation open, he notices Hidaka's staring at him. It's not something unusual, especially these days-- staring at him is probably in Hidaka's top five hobbies, right next to making up excuses to not attend the captain's optional training sessions and losing badly at any fighting game they play. So he's used to it, it doesn't bother him as much as it used to, but feeling his gaze on him makes something click, makes him flush involuntarily--

_Fuck._

"Do you feel warm?" Hidaka asks, eyes never leaving Fushimi's as he speaks, voice a little strained as he tries to sound calm and upbeat. "I know that's a sign of hypothermia ... do you think it's related to that stuff we got dosed with?"

"Obviously." He sounds a little harsher than he meant to, but he's frustrated. Hidaka doesn't even seem that put out by it, still watching him as gives a little nod of his head.

Normally he'd add something about how it would have to be, the AC is always on in these things at the same temperature, pay more attention to your surroundings, idiot ... but he can't. His mouth is suddenly dry, and Hidaka is still watching him, and he's just getting more and more hot under the collar.

It's not like Fushimi never gets horny. He's a 20 year old male, he spends about fifty percent of his existence being vaguely horny. Working with the guy you're sleeping with, along with living two doors down with him has definitely gotten him _distracted_ before this, but he knows himself. There's something not right about how he's feeling now, and that annoys him, but he can't seem to squash the unwelcome reactions down. He doesn't like this, not being able to control himself. So much of him is built on his control, or lack thereof, depending on who you ask.

He wants to think it's at least a few minutes before some of his composure cracks. It's probably less. Hidaka's stopped staring at him, fixing his gaze to the wall opposite them, leaning heavily against the sterile paneling that lines the inside of the vehicle. It's too easy for Fushimi to drop his head, cheek hitting Hidaka's shoulder, making him start. The fabric of his uniform feels almost cool against Fushimi's skin, and he's closer now. It makes him feel better, in a way that he can't really describe.

There's a pause before Hidaka moves his hand, brushing Fushimi's bangs back before pressing his palm to his forehead. He's not looking at him, but he can almost feel the wince in Hidaka's voice as he speaks.

"You're burning up-- you got hit with more of it than I did." There's an apology hidden in there, Fushimi can tell. They both just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, he wants to tell him. _Story of my life._ "Does anything hurt?"

"Not yet." He tries to answer clearly, at least, hates that edge of concern in Hidaka's voice, wants to prove that he is not, in fact, slowly dying.

"You'll tell me if it does?"

"Of course."

Hidaka still hasn't moved his hand, and Fushimi really doesn't mind that it's still there. He wants the contact, and still wants even more. His head is swimming a little less than it was, but that underlying urge is still there, prickling hot under his skin, making his hands twitch restlessly, wanting to reach out and--

He feels Hidaka swallow more than he sees it, which is strange if he thinks about it, but then, thinking at all still isn't coming very easily. Hidaka drops his hand from Fushimi's forehead, and Fushimi can almost feel the weight of his gaze on him. He's getting the impression that looking up to confirm it is a bad idea right now, with the way his mind is acting.

He takes a sharp, surprised inhale of breath when he feels Hidaka move to brush two fingers against his neck. Fushimi doesn't realize what he's doing until he feels the press against his pulse, heartbeat going more than a mile a minute by the time he figures it out. He's fussing, still, of course Hidaka is still fussing over him. As much as he plays at being carefree and in the moment, he can be surprisingly, _annoyingly_ thoughtful sometimes.

With Fushimi, it steers more toward all the time.

"Your heartbeat is really elevated. I was kind of wondering, because mine is too."

He wants to snap _Then why didn't you just ask?_ , like he normally would, but. When he tries to open his mouth his teeth just grind together, every part of his body focused on that vein thrumming against Hidaka's fingers. If Fushimi's heartbeat was fast before, it's almost hammering now, and if he weren't so embarrassed he might be scared at how much that single touch is making him haywire. He has to dig his nails into his knee to keep his legs from shifting around and drawing attention to the fact that he's got a hard-on from someone checking his heart rate.

Not just someone, part of him says. That's not the part that speaks, though, when he finally turns his head to look at Hidaka directly. Hidaka blinks, surprised, but Fushimi can see the flush on his face, his mouth falling open a little as he looks back down at Fushimi.

_Elevated heart rate. Yeah, right._

"Can I kiss you?" Hidaka's words almost make Fushimi bark out a laugh, but he's got a more constructive response than that.

If his body's felt fatigued and almost sore since the confrontation ended, Fushimi feels none of it now as he surges up to press their lips together, turning his body so he can most effectively crawl in Hidaka's lap.

Hidaka's reaction is instant, the hand on Fushimi's neck moving to the back of his head, tangling his fingers in his hair and using that leverage to pull him closer. Fushimi nearly moans into his mouth, breath already stuttering and harsh as he clutches at Hidaka's shoulders.

When he feels Hidaka's tongue push into his mouth without any hesitation or warning he parts his lips immediately, another embarrassing, rough sound escaping his throat. Fushimi's head is feeling light again, but in a different way, like his mind has shoved out every thought to make room for nothing but tongue and teeth and more contact.

There's a strange sense of giddiness that's edging into panic as he pants into Hidaka's mouth, sliding their tongues together with a certain sense of familiarity while also flirting with the exact opposite. Hidaka is careful, always _so careful_ when he touches him, like he's afraid Fushimi is going to bolt at any second. When they started this Hidaka was always the one taking things slow, getting confirmation second and third times before he even started doing anything. It got annoying, after a while, but didn't upset him. Fushimi wouldn't admit to liking it, but he definitely didn't hate it.

The feeling of Hidaka's teeth in their kiss, the urgency in his movements as he holds Fushimi to him-- Fushimi really doesn't hate that either.

He manages to take his coat off without pulling back from Hidaka's mouth, throwing it off to the side with no care to where it ends up. Hidaka's free hand immediately moves to tug his shirt tails out of his pants, snaking under it as soon he's done to press his palm against the flat of Fushimi's stomach.

Fushimi whines in relief at the sensation of flesh on flesh, whatever drug or toxin in his bloodstream that's driving him to this, making his muscles shudder and shake at the touch. He unconsciously tightens his thighs on either side of Hidaka's legs, rolling his hips flush against Hidaka's own.

Hidaka's reaction is to almost _jump_ in his seat, teeth automatically clacking down and biting Fushimi's tongue.

Fushimi rears his head back, one of his hands flying over his mouth while Hidaka looks well and truly mortified, dropping his own hands from where they were from Fushimi.

"Crap, crap, I'm so sorry! Is it bleeding? I can't believe I did that, are you okay?" Hidaka sounds mostly normal, if a little more strained than usual, his expression resembling a large dog that knows it broke something.

"It's _fine_ ," Fushimi's voice says that it really isn't fine, but wasn't about to admit to it and fuel Hidaka's panic anymore. "Just don't do it again."

Hidaka nods, though the guilt is still evident on his face. Another time Fushimi might let him sullenly wallow in it (he tells himself, but even under normal circumstances it isn't very likely), but the pain had already subsided, and his blood is back to screaming in his ears.

They're about the same height like this, so it's easy enough for Fushimi to lean back in to kiss him again, one of his hands dropping down to cover Hidaka's, guiding it back up to where he had put it before under his shirt. He's not as forceful with his mouth this time, but Fushimi can't help the urgency in his movements, can't hide how desperate he is to show that Hidaka _really needs to start touching him again right now immediately_.

The coaxing works, even if Fushimi can still feel every little _sorry_ that's in the quick succession of pecks Hidaka gives him, first on his lips before he starts moving down, first to his chin, then to a spot on his neck just under it.

Fushimi sighs a little, tilting his head up to give him better access. It feels hypocritical to urge him on so soon after he shut him down, but Fushimi's self control is just about spent. He counts his own breath, one, two, three times. When he feels Hidaka nuzzle against his pulse he finally moves, shifting his hips just so, feeling their lengths align before he grinds down.

Hidaka swears under his breath but immediately mirrors the movement, the friction so good Fushimi swears he might cry. He still might, with how gone his composure is and how Hidaka's moved a hand down to grab his hip, keeping him in position as they start to move against each other, desperate and messy but still so good.

He knows he could just leave it there-- they've done it this way plenty of times, in the bottom bunk of his dorm room, Hidaka holding him carefully and exhaling embarrassing praises into his mouth. That familiar heat is already coiling its way down his back along his spine, he knows he could finish like this with Hidaka's mouth on his neck and hands on his waist.

The thought is tempting, continues to be tempting with every automatic cant of his hips and the gratifying friction it brings, igniting the ends of his frayed nerves even more with each passing. He wants it-- but at the same time, he wants more.

"Stop."

-

Everything grinds to a halt when he hears that word. His cock is painfully hard in his uniform pants and every muscle in his body is screaming in protest, but Hidaka stills his movements. Fushimi told him to stop, and even if every instinct is telling him not to listen, he has to. His head is a jumble of obscene wants, but he's still sane enough to know that he needs to listen to something like that.

He chances a glance up, to see if maybe he can read it in Fushimi's face. The expression he's wearing isn't angry, at least, but as soon as Hidaka catches sight of the rest of him he really can't stop staring. His hair's a complete mess from being pawed at, the flush on his face spreading from his cheeks to his ears to down his neck-- where Hidaka definitely just left a huge hickey, which is normally _not allowed_ but he wasn't paying attention and he's paying even less attention now, kind of staring dumbly at how red Fushimi's lips are.

When he moves off Hidaka's lap, though, his brain grounds itself a little, making a confused noise even as he still has a painfully tight grip on his hips. Fushimi just makes a face and swats his hand away, and he's about to ask what's wrong, but the quiet sounds of him flicking open the top of his pants and pulling the zipper down make it apparent soon enough.

Most of the time he tries not to stare too much, and right now he almost feels like he's leering as Fushimi shimmies out of his work slacks. He kind of has a thing for Fushimi's legs ... Well, right now it feels like he has a thing for Fushimi's _everything_ , and he really can't help how he reaches out to grab him by the back of his thighs the second his feet are free of the pants. His fingers dig into soft flesh and he marvels at how smooth, how pale he is here ... thin, too, which worries him sometimes, but he'd be lying if he said the difference in their builds was never a turn on.

He definitely groans this time when Fushimi pushes his hands away _again_ , but shuts up when he sees him pull his messy, wet briefs down, discarding them with his pants before climbing back into Hidaka's lap.

"You can touch me now," his voice is soft, almost ragged, and the sound goes straight to Hidaka's cock.

His hands go back to Fushimi's waist, one pushing his shirt up as the other wraps around his length, hard and wet the touch. Fushimi moans, loud despite being muffled by his hand. Hidaka rocks his hips up at the noise, fruitlessly as Fushimi's still sitting on his knees, hovering above him, just out of reach. He wants so badly to pull him down and grind into him, but-- he sees that hand at Fushimi's mouth drop, dipping behind his own back to …

"Don't-- we don't have anything, you shouldn't," if Fushimi's voice sounded wrecked Hidaka's almost sounds ruined, reedy and disbelieving. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

But even as he's talking Fushimi's already started to push one of fingers past that tight ring of muscle at his entrance, mouth dropping open in a quiet little 'ah' that sends all of Hidaka's blood rushing away from his brain.

"S'fine, I want it." His reply is a little slurred but intent, and even though Hidaka feels like he should be trying to be responsible, trying to clear his head and think about why all of this made absolutely zero sense, he seriously doesn't want to.

His cock's already started to ache painfully, twitching in response every time Fushimi pushes a finger in deeper. Hidaka can't help but imagine it, he's done it to him before, knows what it feels like, impossibly hot and tight, a pressure that bears down on all sides. His mouth goes a little dry just thinking about it, honestly.

Even if Fushimi seems to be making pretty good progress, there's no way doing that with just spit can be easy. Hidaka turns his attention back to him, hand squeezing around his length gently as he starts to give it a few shallow pumps, thumb smearing precome over the head. It makes Fushimi tense, at first, but he can see it in his shoulders as he starts to relax, head falling forward as he pushes another finger inside himself.

Hidaka might be impatient, but he knows rushing this would be bad. All he can do is wait while Fushimi thrusts and scissors himself open, pressing kisses to his mouth, the side of his face, his hair, whispers how hot he is and how much he wants him. He knows Fushimi always says how much he hates when he says shit like that, but right now all he can do let out little moans in response, face burning hot next to Hidaka's as he leaks messily in his hand.

The moments stretch on for a while like that. Finally, Fushimi's breathing starts to even out, the movements of his hand becoming more steady until he stops, pulling his fingers out entirely. He doesn't say anything as he presses himself closer, Hidaka already moving to get his own cock free of his pants.

He's still worried, part of him knowing this isn't the smart thing to do. Fushimi's already moving, though, reaching down to grab Hidaka's length as he lines himself up. The second he starts to lower himself down Hidaka knows he's done for, has to channel all of his energy into not just grabbing him by the hips and shoving him down because holy shit, does he want to.

If he thought the waiting was bad before, it was almost unbearable now. It's hot, and so tight-- he knows now there's no way Fushimi took as long as he needed to for this, and he can't help but hate himself for thinking how _good_ it feels. He wants to be buried in him already, his cock impossibly hard now as Fushimi continues slowly, gradually press down on him.

Fushimi's panting by the time the back of his thighs finally hit Hidaka's lap, his whole body shaking. As much as Hidaka's aching for more, he can't bring himself to move yet, catching Fushimi's face in both his hands and kissing him intently, as steady as he can.

"I've got you, okay? I've got you," he murmurs in between long kisses, repeating it until Fushimi's body stills.

He doesn't say anything in reply, won't look him in the eye, even when he moves to rest his hands on Hidaka's shoulders and carefully, _carefully_ starts to lift himself, knocking Hidaka's breath from his lungs. Even if he can't speak, he still can't tear his eyes away from Fushimi's face, leaving one of his hands there as he moves the other to curl around the jut of his hip bone, pulling him back down.

The sound Fushimi makes is obscene, his voice breaking over a moan, his whole body starting to shiver again even as he lifts himself up to repeat the motion. Hidaka can't help himself now, rocking his hips up when he comes down, angling to push ever deeper inside him, moaning as he feels Fushimi tighten around him, his pulse mingling and drowning out his own as they start an uneasy, staccato rhythm.

All he can think about is rocking up, seeking out that stifling heat with each breath he takes, sparks under his skin and behind his eyes as his words start to flow out easy and rushed. 'You feel so good, so amazing, I love you,' comes out like it's natural, because for Hidaka, it just is. He knows it embarrasses Fushimi but also knows he doesn't hate it, wouldn't have done this if he hated, because he _knows_ how he gets. If anything it just makes him move faster, more desperate, and Hidaka's not far behind, echoing all of his noises with his own.

It isn't too surprising that Fushimi can only keep up that unforgiving pace for so long-- he had been exhausted the last couple of days, and after the battle he was nearly dead on his feet. He practically falls on Hidaka's cock as his knees give out, an almost shocked sob ringing from his throat as it hits that spot inside of him.

Hidaka just kisses the side of his face as he drops his hand from it, grabbing the other side of his waist and angling Fushimi's hips just so, giving him enough room thrust up and into him, shallow and rough and just enough to hit that spot again and again. He can feel it when Fushimi starts to edge into climax, everything somehow getting even tighter as his whole body constricts around him, voice ragged in each noise he makes.

He knows it happens when Fushimi finally lifts his head to look at him, eyes wet and black behind his bangs, face completely open and vulnerable. He comes with a broken cry, without even needing to touch himself, cock releasing a wet line of come against Hidaka's vest just as he pushes up into him again.

He keeps moving through the aftershocks, a couple more thrusts doing him in as well, burying himself deep inside one last time as he _groans_ , the knuckles gripping Fushimi's hips almost white. Fushimi makes a little noise of displeasure as he feels that hot slick inside him-- he's told Hidaka before he doesn't like the feeling, doesn't like the mess, but the only thing he can do is kiss him in apology.

They don't move immediately. Or at all, really, Fushimi entirely boneless and half-naked against Hidaka. Who happens to have his boyfriend's come all over his uniform, but really can't bring himself to care about it.

"Do you think it'll stain?" But, okay, just because he doesn't actually care doesn't mean he can't tease him about it.

"I'll pay for the dry cleaning." Fushimi mumbles, eyes closed as he uses Hidaka's shoulder as a pillow.

"Woah, so generous. You liked it that much?"

Fushimi flushes a little, almost annoyed, before he replies.

"No. It's an apology."

"An apology? For what?"

"For when the lieutenant comes in to check on us in a few minutes and I tell her you started it."

... Crap.


End file.
